


Gifts

by Teland



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-11-07
Updated: 1998-11-07
Packaged: 2020-12-09 17:53:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20998916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teland/pseuds/Teland
Summary: Christmas schmoop.





	Gifts

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks to the Spike and Nonie for beta!

Warm, wet winter in D.C. and Christmas was looking even  
uglier than usual. A windy squall had taken down most of   
the streetlight decorations. The remaining snow of a week   
past was black sludge on slippery streets. The air was only   
just cold enough to make the humidity bitter. 

Mulder looked out the window and wondered whether the   
malarial swamp was buried all that far beneath the asphalt.  
He thought of the original settlers, and wondered if their   
shivers felt as sickly unhelpful as his own. 

And Alex had been gone when he woke this morning.

They'd had no plans to speak of, and Mulder hadn't even   
heard from the other man since their last explosive   
meeting. Sticky August and Alex's sweat had been as high   
and sharp as his cries.

So good and Mulder felt a wave of heat slam into his balls,  
lazy and implacable as a storm tide. He'd marked Alex that   
day, greedy bites welcomed by throat, by chest and thigh.

They'd had a year of this -- a weekend here, an hour there   
\-- few words but all of them had the consistency of brands.   
"Please" and "more" and "again," and Mulder knew Alex   
had felt them, too.

So it was up to Mulder to figure out just where he'd   
screwed up. 

It had started with the same dark excitement as always.   
Mulder with a low purr at his ear and a restless hand   
roaming his chest. A slow subtle urge to lay himself out   
somewhere to be used and sacrificed for some nameless,   
grinning god that only Alex knew.

He'd said: "I missed you."

And it might have been either of them, twined in the dark   
as they were, nothing but gloom-shadowed neon and   
arc-sodium to light incomplete stretches of skin.

After, they had lain together on the floor, heedless of the   
drafts and scratch of the carpet, and Mulder had held the   
other man close, stroking and petting. The clock on the   
wall was the only piece of furniture he could make out,   
ticking oblivious to Mulder's anxiety.

"How long?"

//Give me the night. It's yours to provide...//

"A few days this time, I think." Pause hardened by the   
brief freeze of muscle under his hands. "If you want."

Mulder had pulled him closer still, searched for Alex's   
mouth with his own.

"I want."

"Mmmm... I love it when you're direct."

"Bedroom."

Low chuckle tickled his cheek, and Alex wriggled a little   
so that Mulder was draped over him. "You feel so good,   
though..."

Before he knew what he was doing, Mulder had started a slow   
rock against the other man's ass. For a while, the only   
sounds were the slide of smooth skin and soft moans, but   
the idea of the bedroom was an important one.

"Alex--" And the hoarse rasp of his voice was a brittle   
shock. The knowledge of desire can be terrible.

"Mmm?"

It may or may not have been a question. 

"Alex, if we brain ourselves crawling around in the dark to   
look for lube the romance of the moment will probably   
fade."

Long-suffering sigh from below and Mulder's smile was   
nearly painful. Alex knelt up again slowly, allowing as   
little of his body to lose contact with Mulder's as   
possible. 

And when Alex had turned the tables on him, flipped him  
over and rode him hard, Mulder couldn't think to complain.   
And carpet burns would've been irritating to say the least.

They'd curled together to sleep, but Mulder was too drawn   
to Alex's softened features to rest. A few days was a   
wonderful concept, but Mulder couldn't help but wonder what   
the other man had done to earn them this time.

The holiday season was always hectic after all, and he  
doubted the nameless old men were busy putting together   
new bikes and dream houses. He and Alex may have found   
themselves on something like the same side, but Mulder   
would never be familiar with the shadows. He didn't want to   
be.

Alex was only covered to the waist by the blankets, and   
Mulder didn't want him to ever be cold, or alone, but it   
would be foolish to pretend that wasn't precisely how the   
other man spent his life. 

There were, however, ways around that. Mulder had crept out   
of bed to his closet, rummaged for the box he'd had sitting   
in there since a few weeks after their last encounter.   
Mulder sat on the floor, idly running his hands over the   
wide, smooth surface, and waited for Alex to wake.

Perhaps it hadn't taken very long, but Mulder had been   
dozing against the closet door when a gentle hand shook   
him awake.

"Mmmph. Five more minutes, Scully, I swear the spleen-  
sucking mutants will still be there..."

A very un-Scullylike laugh. "What's wrong, Mulder? Do I   
snore?"

Mulder opened his eyes to find himself being thoroughly   
scrutinized by the other man, casual words or no. Alex had   
his head cocked to the side, and his thumb had made a   
surreptitious move closer to his pulse.

"I'm fine Al--" An untimely yawn. "Alex. I was just waiting   
for you to wake up."

"On the floor."

"Well, yes."

"Naked."

"Are there better ways to wait for you?"

Alex laughed again, shook his head and dragged Mulder to   
his feet. "What's in the box, hmm?"

Mulder leaned in for a slow kiss of sleep and comfort.   
"It's for you."

"For me?"

"We're not being very bright, are we?"

"Not at all. Come back to bed, we can try this again after   
another--" A long yawn. "Another three hours of sleep."

"But don't you want to open your present?"

"For me?"

"We've been over this, Alex."

"But I'm *tiiiiiiiiiiired*."

"I never knew you could whine like that."

"Mmph. You should hear me whimper."

"I have."

Slow smile in gleaming neon. "You should hear it again."

"I really can't argue with that."

"Good boy. Bed now?"

"But, Aaaaalex..."

"You need to work on that. Not quite enough pule. Stretch   
out the x'es." And Alex was tugging him back to bed. 

Mulder complied, but brought the box with him, and settled   
it firmly between them when they'd settled under the covers   
again.

"Dammit, Mulder, you took so much time the sheets got cold   
again."

"Picky bastard, aren't you?"

"I'm just going to have to leave you if you don't continue   
to keep me in the style to which I've grown accustomed."

An image of Alex nude save for a collar and big "M" on his   
ass was nearly vivid enough to drag him off to sleep,   
but...

"Present, Alex."

"I really can't believe you bought a Christmas present for   
me. I mean I -- how do you know I'm not Jewish?"

Mulder gave the sheets a pointed look.

"Reformed?"

"Please don't. Besides, it's not a Christmas present, it's   
a Whenever-The-Hell-He-Shows-Up-Again Present."

A snicker in the darkness. "So if I'd waited until   
February?"

"Assuming I hadn't died of dehydration from wild   
masturbation?"

"You think about me when you jerk off?"

"Mostly just before, but that's not the point."

"OK, OK, I'll open it. You better fucking have my   
Groundhog's Day present ready when I come back again,   
though."

"Picky *and* greedy."

"You weren't complaining with your cock down my throat."

"I was, too. 'Oh God, Alex, more,' is actually ancient   
Sumerian for 'You are damned annoying, but you *do* give   
good head.'"

"And that little shriek?" 

"There was a spider on the wall. A big one."

"You have all the answers, don't you?" The words were   
snappish, but the voice was warm.

"Yes, grasshopper. See?"

"Oh, I see, sensei. Wanna grab my pebbles?"

"I wouldn't call them pebbles, per se..."

"Hey, I was trying to go with the metaphor, Mulder."

"Wise man say: You mustn't run before you learn to walk,   
grasshopper."

"I think I may beat you to death with this box."

"I could die content if you'd just open the damned thing   
first."

"Can we try to drag out the suspense a little while   
longer?"

"No."

"Awww... you're just no fun anymore, Mulder."

"That's not what you said whe -- Would you just open the   
*box*?"

Another chuckle, "Almost got you..." but Alex was opening   
the present.

Crinkle of paper and Mulder remembered the smiling young   
woman at the store asking if he'd wanted it wrapped as   
well. They hadn't had anything painfully garish, so Mulder   
had declined. 

"I smell dead animals."

Mulder smiled, waited. He was prouder of this gift than he   
cared to think about. "I was hoping to appeal to your   
predatory side."

"Just a side?"

"Well, it's been *months* since you chewed on me with any   
real fervor."

"Any real -- You really are asking for it."

"And here I was worried I wasn't being obvious enough."

Mulder could hear Alex shaking out the jacket better than   
he could see it.

"Oh, wow."

"You like it?"

"It's gorgeous, Mulder... Thank you."

The words were muted, but then, so were they both. It   
really had been late. 

"It's got all sorts of pockets for..."

"Stuff." And the smile was audible.

"And it also has..."

"Yes?"

"Kevlar lining."

"Kevlar."

"Yes."

"Kevlar lining."

"Um-hmm."

"You crazy sonofabitch... you had this specially made for   
me?"

"Well, the sizing was a little difficult and you can't just   
go out and *buy* Kevlar anywhere--"

"Yes you can."

"I don't want to know. Anyway, yes, I had it made for you.   
Stylish, yet practical."

Long silence, and Mulder started to get a little worried.

"Mulder, I... I didn't... I don't have..."

He tossed the box off the bed, pulled the other man in for   
a long, slow kiss. Alex tasted of a little salt, and the   
smell of new leather was strong and rich. They'd made love   
again, tired and sweet, and Alex had kept his eyes closed   
the whole time. 

And when Mulder woke up, he was alone. The urge toward   
anger was powerful, and the too often false sentimentality   
of the season wasn't helping. They were supposed to have a   
little time, and even knowing that Alex often had to leave   
with minimal warning didn't ease the bitterness.

This was too much. Mulder had just given the man a present,  
not demanded to meet the other man's parents and have a   
commitment ceremony.

The thought had its own dark humor.

"Hey, Mom, remember Dad? Yeah, well, this is the guy who   
may or may not have killed him. And we're going to get   
sorta kinda married. What? I didn't mention I was gay?   
Mom...? Mom? Why are you twitching like that? Mom? Put the   
gun down, Mom..."

Mulder laughed alone. Alex would've appreciated the humor,   
but he wasn't here. 

He got himself a beer and tried to think it through. One,   
Alex had been happy to see him. Two, Alex had proceeded to   
prove that in several messy ways. Three, Alex had liked the   
jacket -- evidenced by the fact it was gone. The receipt   
was still there; he wouldn't be returning it. 

However, he hadn't brought anything for Mulder. 

The idea was absurd -- Alex Krycek didn't run off in a fit   
of guilt because of a holiday faux pas. Alex didn't do fits   
of guilt very well. Alex didn't do guilt very well, period.   
It was one of the differences between them that Mulder   
appreciated -- there was little chance the man would try to   
horn in on his moping time.

The door opened before he could circle back in on his   
thoughts. Alex, bejacketed and wearing ice crystals in his   
hair. The cold air tried to follow him inside, but Alex   
kicked the door closed.

"Why aren't you still asleep?"

Mulder searched the other man's eyes for a long moment.   
"The bed got cold."

"And you call *me* picky."

"Where did you go?"

//Don't *do* that.//

"Just... just out, Mulder. I had to... do some thinking."

"What?"

"Well, you got me this coat..."

"Don't tell me you left me here to drive myself insane just   
to find a present."

"As if you don't regularly bugger yourself up *anyway*."

"Dildos are besides the point."

Wicked smile. 

"Sex toys? Have we reached that point in the relationship,   
Alex?"

"There's a special point?"

"Alex."

"I thought I told you to work on that."

"Alex! Why? Why did you... I don't need anything. Presents   
aren't... Dammit, it's not like a hostage exchange, Alex."

"So few things are..."

Mulder geared himself up to yell again, but Alex held up   
his hand.

"Look, Mulder... I know you didn't mean to make me think   
this way, and really, you didn't. So few people..." Alex   
frowned, shook his head. "That isn't important. I just   
want... I just want you to know how much I... appreciate   
being with you."

"And later, we can watch college football, clap each other   
on the shoulder, belch loudly, and point at the   
cheerleaders' tits. Lest we get too emotional."

"Such an asshole."

"But you... appreciate... me, anyway."

Alex smiled, moved over to Mulder. Stretched out so he was   
leaning back against the arm of the couch, back resting on   
Mulder's thighs. 

"You could say that."

Mulder laughed, ran his hand along the other man's chest.

"The jacket isn't *that* warm, Alex. A tee shirt isn't   
enough."

A snort. "Yes, dad, I'm sorry. But remember where I'm   
from."

"Florida? Utah? Vladivostok? Morocco?"

"Yes."

"Asshole."

"Mm-hmm." Alex sighed contentedly, nuzzled a little closer.

"So...."

"Yeah?"

"What'd you get me?"

Mulder could feel the smile through the cotton of his robe,   
and then Alex was moving Mulder's hand a little higher and   
to the left.

Mulder swallowed once. "All mine?"

Alex buried his face against Mulder's belly, whispered.   
"All yours."

"But if I tell anyone, you'll have to kill me."

"Yes, and them, too."

"Hmm... maybe it's the Christmas spirit--"

"Singing is also a crime punishable by death."

"I've heard *you* sing."

"Yes, but I'm good at it. And you're not."

"So it's *bad* singing that's against the law."

"Mulder."

"Hey, I'm just trying to clarify."

"Mulder."

"Hmmm....?"

"Shut up and cuddle me."

~~~~  
End.  
~~~~


End file.
